


Steak and Kidney Pie

by Jaysop



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, But only a little, Cannibalism, Emetophilia, Fluff, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Sick!Hannibal, Sickfic, Vomit, Vulnerable!Hannibal, Will and Hannibal are recovering quietly off the grid AU, a lot of fluff tbh, caring!Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-27 00:00:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5025766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaysop/pseuds/Jaysop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A month after their escape, Will discovers Hannibal has been keeping something from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steak and Kidney Pie

**Author's Note:**

> Anon asked:
> 
> prompt idea:
> 
> An AU where Will asks Hannibal to stop killing and eating people and Hannibal goes along with it. Things seem normal for a few months but as time progresses Will discovers that Hannibal is losing weight and he comes to find out that it is because we hasn't been able to keep down any meal that contains meat when Hannibal has to make a quick exit during a meal. Hannibal explains to a shocked Will it isn't human and there are slight differences between that and the meat you would get from an animal that he can't handle after so long eating so much human meat. He explains that he will survive this and that it will just be a slow adjustment. Cue Will's internal struggle over whether to let Hannibal suffer and waste away or to kill. One life vs Potentially quite a few.
> 
> Obviously you don't have to write this because that's up to you but if you ever decide to I'd love to read it!
> 
> jaysop:
> 
> Its been awhile since you left me this nonny, but only because I wanted to give this one the proper attention it deserved because its such an interesting prompt! 
> 
> Just the fact that Hannibal might indulge Will’s internal struggle with his crumbling morality at the sake of his own health is kinda sweet and endearing and fluffy and I love it. And Will wanting to cook for Hannibal and feed him, Will trying to nurse him back to health and failing miserably but not really realizing it at first – yes to all of this.
> 
> So here it is anon. Maybe not as angsty as you were hoping for but I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> 1/3/16 - edited some spelling/grammar stuff

~~~

The enticing aroma of meat stewed for the better part of the afternoon made the tiny kitchen feel quite cozy. Will lifted the lid from a large stainless pot and was greeted by a rush of savory steam, dark green vegetables bobbing happily in the broth alongside big chunks of venison. He dipped a spoon in and blew on it. Contentment spread across his face. The stew was delicious, hearty, perhaps just the thing to speed recovery.

Hannibal lay on the couch in the adjoining room, a book open across his chest where he had let it fall, just for a moment, so he could rest his eyes. If he was being honest with himself he had been doing that more often lately. Even the simple act of reading had become exhausting. Will watched him silently, a pang of worry rising in his throat.

While his own wounds had steadily healed, Hannibal seemed to be recovering very slowly. A second course of antibiotics was nearing its end with little effect.

It didn't make sense. Hannibal was strong and very healthy before and now he was floundering, and Will, whose diet had consisted of whiskey and the occasional canned dinner (heating of said dinner being optional), was making a full recovery.

"Have you taken to lurking in doorways, Will?" Hannibal asked his eyes still closed.

"I wasn't _lurking_ ," Will mumbled as he moved to sit on the edge of the couch, shifting Hannibal's legs to make room. "I just thought you were asleep."

"Not asleep, just resting."

The eyes that studied him seemed so tired; the fire in them had gone out replaced with a dull lackluster and rimmed in shadow. Will placed a hand on Hannibal's knee.

"Dinner's ready...if you'd like something to eat."

Hannibal closed his book and nodded a shallow yes.

A bowl was brought to him and a second one set out for Will. They skipped the table in favor for a more comfortable meal in the living room, Hannibal testing the broth in small sips and Will eating slowly but keeping a watchful eye on the other.

In spite of himself and his preference for preparing their meals, Hannibal rather liked Will's cooking. It was simple fare, but perhaps that's what made it so good. There was nothing fussy or complex about the stew; an old recipe Will had learned in his youth and had since perfected to his own tastes. Best of all it warmed him from the inside.

A shame it would all go to waste soon enough.

"Well?" Will had stopped eating. He had become accustomed to Hannibal picking apart his cooking and reviewing it down to the smallest detail, but this time he was silent. He had closed his eyes and was savoring the rich flavor of the venison.

"It's quite good, Will."

"But?"

"There is no but."

"Are you sure you’re feeling alright?" Will set his bowl down and placed the back of his hand to Hannibal's cheek. Then he felt his own to compare.

"I feel fine. I'm still a bit tired but otherwise as good as can be expected."

Those eyes again, searching Will's face, and perhaps hiding something. Will broke eye contact first and set to studying Hannibal's hands, skillful as they were lethal. He followed each noticeable vein and watched as thin bones revealed the inner workings of him as he moved.

"You must be telling the truth," Will gave up with a huff, "I've never known you to spare my feelings, especially over a meal you didn't like."

Will studied the other's reaction. The problem was there wasn't any. Even sick and wasting away, Hannibal still held control over his unreadable features. He finished the bowl, tipping it back to drink the last remnants of rapidly cooling broth.

Will finished his as well and then gathered up both to take them to the sink. He gave each one a quick rinse and set them aside to wash properly later. He had only been gone for a few moments but when he returned Hannibal wasn't on the couch.

"Hannibal?"

The edge of a hardcover book grazed Wills foot and he nearly kicked it across the floor. Instinctively he picked it up and smoothed the pages before closing it.  This was highly unusual. Far be it for Hannibal to mistreat a piece of literature.

And then, as Will put the book neatly on the coffee table he paused, fingers lingering across its cover. Suddenly everything started to make sense.

Will made his way down the hall to the bathroom. The door was shut. He opened it as quietly as he could manage. Inside he found Hannibal crouched in front of the toilet. Will slipped inside and shut the door behind him out of habit. Hannibal gave a low moan of acknowledgement.

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m right here,” Will soothed. Hannibal cringed and his body lurched forward in an awkward spasm. He gagged harshly and a thick torrent of barely digested food splashed down into the water.

Hannibal swayed, coughing and choking on the thick ropes of saliva that hung from his mouth.

"You could have called for me. I didn't know you were feeling sick." Will placed a comforting hand against Hannibal's shoulder.

"I didn't...want...to bother you."

Control vanished from his face and panic welled up in its place. He gagged again; a deep guttural sound that made Will cringe. Vomit poured from him, stomach muscles tightly clenched, the air driven from his lungs as he heaved.

Will sat of the edge of the tub alongside him. Hannibal let his head hang down closer to the water, a thin stream of brown liquid spilling down his chin.

"You wouldn't bother me," Will mumbled his eyes downcast, “not ever.”

Hannibal wanted to respond but that didn't prevent the next wave from coming. This time it was a weak sounding retch before he was doubled over, Will hovering above him, trying to lend some kind of comfort as he heaved.

Despite this forced show of vulnerability, Hannibal did find comfort in Will’s presence. He hated getting sick. He absolutely loathed it. It always left him feeling helpless, one of the only feelings that truly scared him. Will’s hand was at his back, rubbing slow gentle circles in hopes of soothing him. It didn’t help his wounded ego however, losing it all this way in front of Will. It exposed him in a way he didn’t like, made him appear weak. He certainly felt weak. It had been almost a month since he had held down a full meal.

There was a brief moment where Hannibal thought perhaps he could stop, maybe hold down what little was left in his stomach, but this was all reflex now to purge until he was empty. His body seemed to be running on muscle memory from the last month and there was little he could do now to stop it. He had barely enough time to suck in a quick breath before he retched again. His head hung low, lips parted, a thin burning trickle spilling from them. It was the last of his meal and mostly stomach acid that splashed into the water now.

Will gathered up a handful of toilet paper and wiped gently across Hannibal’s chin and neck. His movements were tender. Shame radiated off of the man, so thick that Will could almost taste it, bitter and vile in the back of his throat. He spoke shushes to him as Hannibal struggled to catch his breath.

"I’m sorry...you had to see that..." Hannibal finally spoke and his eyes raised to meet Wills, tears brimming in them.

"You could have just told me you didn't like the stew." Will wasn't making eye contact, just looking vaguely to the left, his hand still on Hannibal’s back, his words vaguely sarcastic.

The mere mention of stew and Hannibal dry heaved. He gripped the cold sides of the toilet, his back twisting unnaturally as he retched.

"This has been going on for awhile...hasn't it?" Will’s voice was gentle. He still kept the point of contact, rubbing circles in between Hannibal’s shoulder blades. Hannibal didn't need to say a word. His silence was almost worse.

Desperately clawing at composure, Hannibal laid his head down in Will’s lap finally, his breath still coming in short little gasps, knees curled up to his chest like a sick child. Will’s hands found their way into his mused up hair and gently carded through it.

"I wasn't lying to you, Will," Hannibal said when he had slowed his breathing enough to talk. "I think you are a terrific cook."

"But..."

"But...I have been having some...difficulty transitioning to this new diet. It is...quite different then what my body is accustomed to. It seems to be taking more time than expected."

"Hannibal."

"Not to worry. I will acclimate soon enough."

Will pushed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"You can't be serious. No, no, I know you well enough to know that you are deadly serious." Will let out a small despondent laugh. "And you didn't think it would have been a good idea to tell me about this? To maybe let me know I've been starving you?"

A loud burp and Hannibal covered his mouth. He moved to hover above the toilet just in case.

"Please...excuse me."

Will stood up and started pacing back and forth in the small bathroom.

"So what am I supposed to do now? We made a deal, Hannibal. No more killing. That was the fuckin’ deal--"

"And I promised you that. I have kept my promise."

"Look at you. You’re not healing. I can't let this go on in good conscience--"

"But you must." Hannibal steadied himself against the sink and slowly pulled himself up. "You must...in good conscience." His head reeled from the sudden shift and Will turned just in time to catch him when his vision blurred and his knees buckled.

"My point exactly."

Will slid an arm around Hannibal’s waist. A few months ago it would have been difficult to shoulder the man's full weight. Now as frail as he had become Will had little trouble.

"Are you sure I'm not just a terrible cook?" There was anxious laughter in Wills eyes, a defense mechanism Hannibal had been quick to point out to him, back when they first met in therapy, so long ago.

"No, Will. I actually enjoy it when you cook for me, despite your insecurities." Hannibal sighed as Will ushered him towards the bedroom.

"Being sick has made an even better liar out of you.”

Will deposited Hannibal onto the unmade bed. His head swam and for a moment nausea crept up his throat again. He dry heaved roughly into his cupped hand.

"Common now, you're alright," Will whispered, sitting next to him and sheltering him under his arm. He rubbed up and down Hannibal’s back as he regained his composure.

"You and I both know," Hannibal said as Will helped him get situated under the covers, "that I am far from alright."

Will climbed into bed beside him on top of the blankets and laid on his side. He watched Hannibal close his eyes and begin to drift away. Gently, Will traced patterns across his chest.

"Hannibal?"

"Hmm...?"

"I won't let this go on any longer. I don't want..." The words trailed away and Hannibal rolled over on his side to find the hollow of Will’s neck and curl against him.

"I made you a promise, Will. I always keep my promises." His voice was hoarse, his accent thick.

"And what if I told you, " Will whispered, "I don't want you to keep it."

Hannibal was silent. He curled closer against Will, buried his face in the soft cotton of his shirt.

He took a deep shaky breath.

Will smelled like the earth before snowfall, like the woods when the air becomes cold and crisp. He was everything Hannibal had ever gotten right. And to sacrifice for him, well, it didn't feel like that. It felt suddenly like a small price to pay.

"I love you more than myself," he whispered, the words heavy with a longing that still lingered despite having Will next to him so close.

"I know."

The room fell quiet but Will stayed awake long after Hannibal’s breath had evened out into the steady tones of sleep.

He stayed awake thinking, considering his own morality and carefully weighing it against a life, one life, that had become irreversibly woven with his own.  There was only one outcome, only one solution that came each time no matter how he stacked up his options. And it was an offering of blood.

~~~

When he opened his eyes again he was alone. The sun was high enough that Hannibal knew it was mid day. His body felt stiff when he dragged himself out of bed. Bandages were damp, needing to be changed. They stuck to his wounds uncomfortably, tugged at tender half healed skin as he moved.

Hannibal stretched and yawned, feet finding their way into slippers left for him at the end of the bed. His stomach growled empty and hollow. His lips were dry, throat parched and sore. He wanted water but wondered if he could keep it down.

Will was nowhere to be found, not that Hannibal had much strength to look for him. He made it to the living room and onto the couch before he felt too dizzy to keep searching.

He laid his head back and let his eyes slip closed. He had slept for longer then was necessary but somehow more sleep seemed enticing.

The front door creaked open, Will shutting it quickly behind him to keep out the cold. A breeze still passed him, ghosted over Hannibal’s skin rousing him from impending unconsciousness, and then, the familiar scent of blood filled up the room.

“You’ve been hunting again,” Hannibal’s voice sounded shredded. He spoke with his eyes still shut too exhausted to use all of his senses.

“Yes.”

“And what quarry did you catch?”

Will was silent for a moment and if Hannibal had opened his eyes he would have witnessed the way the other’s hands trembled, fingernails caked with dried blood the color of rust. Hannibal didn’t need to see him. He caught the scent of Will and held it in his lungs. It was the smell of a light dusting of snow, crisp and clean, tracked in on the bottom of his boots, and the bitter scent of adrenaline lingering in the cooling sweat on his brow. All of it mingled, paired beautifully with the familiar scent of fresh blood, still warm in the winter air.

“My quarry…” WiIl began dropping down on the couch next to Hannibal, the scent of him strong now, filling up the other’s senses. “It is…was…a different breed of animal. I think I may need your help preparing it.”

Hannibal opened his eyes then, slowly focusing on Will, who stared despondently off in the distance. He reached up to touch his face, to force their eyes to meet.

“I can’t help you Will, I am too weak,” he said his voice breaking, “but I can guide you, as I always have.”

Will had no choice but to meet Hannibal’s gaze, dark eyes brimming red and shining with tears that wouldn’t fall. He let their foreheads touch, and closed his eyes for a moment, Hannibal’s cool hand still resting against his cheek.

“Hannibal,” Will whispered his voice shaking. “I want you to know…I _chose_ this.”

Hannibal silenced him by pulling him into his arms. They stayed this way for a long time, silent tears streaming down Hannibal’s cheeks and Will softly sobbing against his chest.

Hannibal found he couldn’t hold him close enough. He had dreampt of this moment, too often to count the times, but it was different then he had imagined. The strange feeling that welled up in his chest was unexpected and almost scared him, as he didn’t have a name for it. It verged on being painful, stirred his empty stomach and washed over him like nausea. Somehow if he held Will closer it eased a bit, but was still there burning inside his throat.

Will sniffed back tears and dragged a shirt sleeved across his face. He looked up at Hannibal surprised to see the same tears had left long tracks down his cheeks and had gathered together again at the tip of his chin. Curiously he touched them only to find they were warm and real.

“I thought this would be harder,” Will said, another sniff fighting back tears, “but it wasn’t.”

“Tell me,” Hannibal laid back against the couch cushions, his curiosity peaked, “did you have any trouble butchering your kill?”

“No.” And it was the truth.

Hannibal gave a knowing smile. If he wasn't so weak he would have pulled them both back onto the couch to lavish Will with affection. Instead his lips curved just slightly as he admired Will, taking in all that he had become on this journey they had shared together. What he saw before him was more beautiful than he had ever imagined.

“I’m sorry, I thought I’d be back before you woke up,” Will said lightly touching Hannibal’s cheek, wiping away tears with his thumb.

“It’s alright, these things take time, more time than one might anticipate,” Hannibal was still smiling, the tears that ran down his cheeks joyful.  “I didn’t mind waiting for you.”

Will looked down and then lifted Hannibal’s shirt to press lightly on his bandages. “These need changing.”

Hannibal watched, his vision swimming from hunger and elation, as Will rummaged through the first aid kit pulling out fresh gauze and ointment. He peeled the old bandages carefully from where they stuck to his wounds but Hannibal didn’t even feel it. His eyes never left Will.

“I gave some thought to what I might make,” Will said, pouring a generous amount of peroxide onto some gauze and dabbing at Hannibal’s swollen but intact stitches.

“And what’s that?” Hannibal lay back against the cushions submitting wholeheartedly to Will’s care, the expression on his face complete adoration.

“Steak and kidney pie,” Will said almost absently as he taped the fresh gauze in place. When he had finished Will leaned over and brushed the hair from Hannibal’s forehead before placing a kiss there.

 “A fine dish to start with,” Hannibal said, his body beginning to awaken with the brush of soft lips against the side of his face.

“Well, I’ve always heard that the kidneys hold the most nutrients, which is what you need right now,” Will said packing the first aid kit away, “And honestly I don’t know any other dishes to make with kidneys so...”

Will finally looked up with a sigh and met Hannibal’s eyes that had been locked on him the entire time.

“What?” He moved to sit next to him, another kiss placed on his cheek, “Quite pleased with yourself aren’t you? Are are you just delirious? I expect it’s a combina--”

Hannibal grabbed him around the waist and tucked his head under Will’s chin. “No, just happy. I think I’m just happy.”

~~~

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always welcome and thoroughly enjoyed.
> 
> also tumblr  
> [jay-sop](http://jay-sop.tumblr.com)  
> [little-known-secret](http://little-known-secret.tumblr.com)


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